Morning
by Always Cry Over Spilled Milk
Summary: 'As awkward as the whole morning was, Dave couldn't wait for the next.' John/Dave fluff


One particular morning that followed a… sleepover, Dave awoke before John, so he just laid there and admired him. Eventually, though, he figured he was probably being really creepy and attempted to be romantic and wake John up with a kiss. This failed, so Dave settled for shaking his shoulder lightly and saying his name a few times. This succeeded, and John opened his eyes, blinking a few times.

"Morning, sunshine," Dave greeted, smiling brightly.

"Morning, Dave," John replied, smiling back sleepily. "What time is it?"

"Like 8:00. Can I make you pancakes?"

"Always. But you have to make some for Dad, too."

"Hm. Forgot he was here. Alright." Dave stood up. "Question: do I have to wear clothes?"

John laughed, saying, "Normally I'd say no, but since Dad's here, yes."

Dave pouted and sighed dramatically. "Do you have any sweats I can borrow? I'm not feeling jeans."

"Yeah, sure. You know where they are. Can you grab me a shirt and a pair of shorts?"

"What am I, your slave? I make you food, get you your clothes, satisfy all your… 'needs'."

"Basically. Hop to."

Dave walked over to John's dresser and took out a pair of gray sweatpants, tan cargo shorts, and a blue t-shirt with a wave on it. "Hey, I got you this shirt."

"Yes, you did. I love that shirt. Mainly because you gave it to me."

"Good. Because you're wearing it today," Dave said, throwing the shirt and the shorts at John. John caught them and stood up to get dressed. Dave put on the sweatpants and his shirt from the day before. "You got any cologne? Or… Febreeze?"

"Here," John said, tossing him some floral-scented bottle of Febreeze.

"Dude. If I use this I'll smell like some teenage girl."

John simply shrugged in response. "Let's go downstairs."

"Nice to know you care about how I smell." Dave glared at John as he sprayed himself with the Febreeze, basking in the spray in an overly dramatic and unmanly way. "Alright, let's go."

/\/\/\/\/\

Dave put on the radio beside the stove, singing along as he made the batter for the pancakes.

"I love it when you sing."

Dave looked over his shoulder at John, smiling at him. "You don't hear it very often, though."

"Which is very sad. You have a great voice, Dave."

"I know. I'm pretty fucking great."

"Oh shush. You know, Dave, you look really good from behind."

"Stop complimenting me. You'll make me blush. And Dave Strider does _not_ blush."

John chuckled, coming up behind Dave and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Is this what it's gonna be like when we're older and we get married? The perfect picture of domesticity, where I make us and the kids a nice family breakfast, and you come and put your arms around me lovingly from behind every morning, and the kids sit there constantly asking how long it'll be until we eat? Hell, you're already making me wear a fucking apron. I'm already your goddamn housewife and we're not even married yet," Dave said, not really upset about it at all.

"Yet?"

"Well, of course we're getting married. We'll have one of those big-ass gypsy weddings and it'll be so fucking ridiculous because we'd have some crazy life like all those losers in that show. Like, we'd already have a kid, you'd dress like freakin' Nicolas Cage, and I'd be wearing this fucking apron."

"The kid's name would of course be Casey. We'd get married on the side of the road and Dad would be the pastor, and Dirk would walk you down the aisle, and Rose would be your Maid of Honor, and Jade would be my Best Man. Oh, and we'd have to invite Karkat and all his 'friends'."

"Oh hell yeah. We'll have the biggest, fattest, gypsy wedding in all goddamn history. Me and you Johnny. I can't wait."

They both laughed, only stopping when Dave turned around in John's loving embrace to kiss him. It quickly turned heated as Dave switched the positions, pinning John roughly up against the counter beside the stove.

"The pancakes… are burning," John said breathlessly between kisses.

"Don't… give a… fuck."

"Am I interrupting?" a third-party voice suddenly said, causing Dave to immediately pull away from John.

"N-nothing!" John stuttered out.

"Just showing my love and appreciation for your son, sir," Dave said smoothly.

Dad Egbert simply raised a brow. "That so? Well, that's fine so long as you don't continue to do so in the kitchen." He glanced around John, his other brow soon joining the other. "Your pancakes are burning."

"That's what she said," Dave said, smirking to himself. He quickly dropped the smirk though, when he noticed the look John gave him. "Sorry."

And so the morning continued, Dave starting a new batch of pancakes for John and his dad, awkward conversation occasionally filling the even awkwarder silence.

By the time Dave decided he should probably get home to his bro, Dadbert told him that if he were ever to hurt his son in any way, there would be consequences.

As awkward as the whole morning was, Dave couldn't wait for the next.


End file.
